The Making of a Moron (Teacher/Student)

Copyright Statement:

The Making of a Moron ©2012, My Chinh Tran

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This book, "The Making of a Moron," including all chapters, epilogues, and associated content is copyrighted. All rights reserved by the owner and creator or this work and any unauthorized copying, broadcasting, manipulation, distribution or selling of this work constitutes as an infringement of copy right. Any infringement of this copyright is punishable by law.

Disclaimer:

Any references made from any TV shows, books, poems, or music, is not owned by me.

-omgTaro (Rin).

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Prologue:

I stared directly at my uncle in front of me, and then switched to the five boys that were lined up against at the opposite wall of where I stood; they stared back at me with a cheeky grin. They were standing awkwardly and not so respectful either. I watched the blonde guy for a second, and then he itches his neck and yawns. My eyes twitched in disbelief as he told me this so-called wonderful news—according to him. He faced me, waiting for my reaction.

"Are you freaking high?" I managed to spur out, trying to absent mindedly correct the words he just said to me, replaying it in my mind over again. I rudely pointed to the guys. "You want me to teach them?" Choking on my words, I felt my hands tremble.

He wanted me to teach these five delinquents what they were supposed to learn a year ago? Not only that, but teach in his school? I blinked twice. He seems to have taken a while to process at my totally blunt reply, because once he realized his niece just flat out cussed—further more declined his offer in an unlady-like manner, his jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Cyrine Dallas! Watch that mouth, we're in the school." He scolded, placing the contract down on his office table. "It's only for a few months with these...hm," He paused, as if trying to search for the word to describe these men. "Gentlemen. "

My eyes twitched at the word gentlemen, not really mate. "Besides, it's halfway through your senior year. You can get more credits for this. You have a two spares this semester, correct? So it's no problem. Not to mention, making your records look better and adding an extra few hundred dollars a month will help you get rid of those debt collectors. Being a honors student isn't all."

I was in his office, in his academy making a deal with Satan himself-- the principal of this school, asking me to teach these five male homosapiens. This hell hole-- Maplewood Centennial Academy I should say is the one school I had wish I never stepped foot in here. How the hell can I keep up my work if I'm tutoring five idiots?

I took one breath, calming my raging nerves. "James, I'm not doing it, even if I needed the money." Simply declining, I pinched the side of my thigh. I was forcing myself to relax, I already had three jobs. I couldn't add on anymore stress, my blood pressure is high enough.

"Darling, you need to do it, you know you're drowning in a financial crisis." He put his hand on my shoulder, giving me a worried look.

"So let me get this straight, you asked me to drive all the way here to your academy, demand me to transfer to your academy for the rest of my senior year, in the middle of the year and negotiate a contract deal to help tutor these guys for a few months?"

His eyes were definitely not bullshitting, because it's sparking with fire right now. "It's for the better, just quit your jobs and come live with me. Since you didn't think about how far I'd take it when you don't listen to me, its part of your scholarship offer too. This means if you want to get accepted soon, I really suggest you take this offer."

One of the guys coughed and I snapped my head towards the boy. He stared at me, giving me look as if he was disgusted. I was definitely forming a headache. I stared back at him; he was the only one that had forest-green eyes out of all of them, surprised at how bright it looked from this distance. He glared at me rudely, note-to-self; don't mess with that guy. I clenched my teeth together, building all the strength I had to not collapse from exhaustion.

"You start tomorrow." My uncle stated, gaining my attention once again.

And that right there ladies and gentle-herpes, is the beginning of hell.

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